Bemelmans Bar

Nowhere is the discreet charm of the bourgeoisie more palpable than in this bastion of post-war decadence: think white-jacket waiters, 24-karat gold leaf ceilings, and nickel-trimmed glass tables splayed around the ivories. Settle into a leather banquette and order something strong and adventurous—perhaps with champagne and cognac or fresh mint and muddled lemons. Murals of frolicking animals painted by bar namesake and former Carlyle Hotel resident Ludwig Bemelmans offer a whimsical counterpoint to what might otherwise be suffocating sophistication (and they repay a close viewing—can you spot the armed rabbit stalking its brethren’). Feel an extra boost knowing you’re enjoying pretty much the same thing as the folks across the lobby at Café Carlyle, for a fraction of the cover